Who Says I'm Jealous?
by Holly Chase
Summary: In which Ian is sneaky and Amy is driven to extreme measures. And somehow they end up helping Dan with his assignment. / Winner of Phantomhive Cahill's 'Jealous much' contest.


_In which Ian is sneaky and Amy is driven to extreme measures. And somehow they end up helping Dan with his assignment._

.

**Who Says I'm Jealous?**

When Amy got back to her apartment, that last thing she wanted to see after a stressful day of work was Ian. For seven hours, Amy had received telephone calls, emails, letters and for some strange reason; a YouTube video of minions. Then again, it had been from Dan.

Usually, Amy was pretty pleased to see Ian. They lived together after all, and he could cook. He could cook very well. By being his flat-mate, Amy got free food and company. Company that was not Dan, anyway.

But things were different, Ian was in the kitchen but his back was to her and he was talking on his mobile.

"Uh-huh," he said, grabbing an oven glove and opening the stove with his foot. "Sure, I'll see you then. Yes, bye," The apartment was flooded with the smell of macaroni cheese as Ian began to cut into the golden brown pasta.

"Who was that?" asked Amy, completely innocently. She got the plates out and began to fill glasses with water. The table was already laid with four sets of cutlery; apparently Dan had someone round.

"No one," said Ian, airily piling the macaroni onto plates. He kissed her cheek; "how was work?"

"Stupid," said Amy, sitting heavily at the breakfast bar, "and you weren't talking to no one; who are you going to see?"

"It's nothing," insisted Ian. "Dan has a girl round; I think her name might be… Ciara or something like that, can you get them?"

"Can _I_ get them?" repeated Amy dubiously. "I've just had an awful day of work where everyone gave me the worst jobs because I'm the new girl and _now_ you want me to get Dan and a girl…" Amy trailed off. "Oh God, Dan has a _GIRL_, _alone_, in his _ROOM_?" with that Amy ran through the narrow hall towards her brother's room. She flung the door open, ready to cover her eyes. To her relief, Dan and (had Ian said her name was Ciara?) were just sitting. They weren't even holding hands; just sitting close to each other and in the process of bringing their lips together.

"_Amy_?" Dan shot up and leapt as far away from the bed as he could. As if that could erase the fact that he had been about to kiss a girl. Without telling Amy _first_, "What the _fudge_ are you _doing_?" his cheeks were flushed and Ciara looked as though she wanted to die. "You can't just burst into my room, I'm a teenager; I could be doing _anything_!"

"It's dinner time," said Amy. "And this is _my_ apartment; I can do anything I want. And… who is this?" she added, just to be polite, addressing Dan's… _girlfriend_? – Weird.

"Erm, Lois this is my older sister Amy, Amy this is Lois my… friend," Dan said, the redness beginning to fade. He refused to look at either of the girls.

"Your 'friend'," repeated Amy disbelievingly. Lois… how had Ian got Ciara from that?

"My _girlfriend_," Dan gritted his teeth; Lois stood up letting bangs slide from behind her ears to hide her face a little.

"I'm just going to go now," she said, eyes darting from Amy to Dan. "Maybe jump from some kind of building, see you tomorrow, Dan."

"See you," Dan agreed. "You know the way out, right?"

"Yes," Lois smiled and gave Dan a swift kiss before running past Amy, head down.

There was silence. Amy tapped her foot on the polished wood flooring as Dan stared at the blank television.

"So," said Amy, Dan crossed his arms defensively. "When were you planning on telling me about this?"

"When hell froze over," said Dan.

"What? Why wouldn't you tell me?" Amy tried to sound calm and nonchalant, but hurt seeped into her voice.

Dan sighed; "Amy, you are a little over protective, you know?"

"Huh?" Amy said, incredulous. "How am I overprotective?"

Dan pretended to think about it; "when Atticus and I wanted to watch that movie…" Amy pointed her index finger at Dan, warning him to shut up.

"It was inappropriate; it was rated thirteen!"

Dan took a deep breath; "I – was - _FIFTEEN_!"

"That is beside the point," Amy waggled her finger. "It said 'warning: extreme violence'."

"That is what _eve__ry_ action movie says!" Shouted Dan; "It's universal!"

"Is this a bad time to say that dinner's ready?" Ian appeared from the lit-up corridor. "I could put it back in the oven until you two drama queens…"

"I'm a drama queen now?" Dan muttered. "Being around you two girls is damaging my masculinity."

"… Are done," finished Ian, scowling at Dan. "And be careful who you call a girl,"

"Yeah," Amy said. "Can't have my masculinity insulted, can I?" Ian and Dan both looked at her with uncomprehending eyes. "Let's face it Ian, you spend more time in the bathroom that me. That makes _you_ the feminine one."

"Do I have to remind you of the purple mini-skirt?" Ian threatened, all niceties vanishing at the threat to his virility. "Or; 'Ian, does this make me look fat'?"

"You have your own cabinet for all of your products," said Amy.

"They are for _men_,"

"Well Dan doesn't use them," countered Amy redirecting the conversation to her brother. "Do you, Dan?" There was silence as Dan fidgeted with his hoodie and Ian punched the air.

"I win, my manliness is no longer susceptible," he looked so happy that Amy just had to burst his bubble. _What_? – She'd had a bad day at work.

"Or, we could just all be girls," deadpanned Amy and before Ian could argue continued, "now, macaroni cheese,"

"I love macaroni cheese," Dan said. Ian's phone buzzed with his own voice. The recorded Ian said:

"This is important, pick up now Ian…" Ian covered the speaker with his hand and shot a frantic glance at Dan before his eyes flickered to Amy.

"I should…" Ian waved the smartphone vaguely, "take…" And then he vanished into Dan's en suite bathroom. Dan gave an unhappy sound.

"My big fork was in there," he said and frowned.

"Hmm…" Amy stared at the door to the bathroom, unease settling over her and resting in the pit of her stomach. Why would Ian not want to answer the phone in front of her? Unless… _no_. Amy wouldn't let herself even think it. It was just Ian being Ian. And Ian would _never_ cheat.

"Amy, come on," Dan said walking through the door. "If we're fast enough, we might be able to finish all the macaroni cheese before Ian gets out of the bathroom."

.

"So," Amy pushed some of the pasta around her plate when Ian sat down and fought Dan away from the final portion, "Who was on the phone?"

Ian's eyes flashed and he froze, Spork positioned half way to his mouth which had fallen into an 'o' shape. "Eh… no one,"

"You often have conversations with no one?" Amy raised an eyebrow and nodded for Dan to be excused from the table. Her younger brother scuttled off.

"Well, no one _important_ anyway," amended Ian.

"Why answer it in the bathroom then? It's sneaky. That kind of hints at importance," Amy accused, trying to keep her voice steady.

"It's nothing, Amy," said Ian. A frosty silence filled the room as Ian swallowed a soggy chunk of pasta, Amy blinked ferociously to stop any tears that might try to spill over. She was _not_ going to cry.

"I'm going to my room," said Amy and before Ian could reply, hurried from the kitchen-diner through the corridor into the right wing.

Amy flipped her shoes from her feet towards the wall, the wedges made a thumping sound as the connected with the plaster and Amy flung herself towards he bed, ready to become a girl befitting the title 'drama queen'. She landed on something that was defiantly not bedspread.

"Ouch," complained the not-bedspread. "_Amy_," Amy rolled over and stared through tear-blurred vision.

"_Sinead_?" rolling her green eyes, Sinead sat up.

"Wow, Amy, you recognised your own best friend. That's big, want a medal, or will a pat on the back suffice?" There was a pause then; "are you crying?"

Amy wiped her eyes; "No."

"Right," Sinead shot Amy a disbelieving glance, but dropped it. "Anyway, I was wondering if I could crash here for the night."

"Sure, sure," then Amy froze and cast a worried look at Sinead. "Why?"

"Nothing much," Sinead said a little too quickly, "really. It was _totally_ not my fault that the mixture exploded…" Amy pinched the bridge of her nose.

"What have we told you about experimenting in science class?"

"Not to," Sinead looked down guiltily. "Don't tell Fiske, and I'll only be here for a couple of days until it all dies down."

"Hold on," Amy's eyes grew wide as she ran to her desk and scanned the paper sitting by her text books. "This was _you_!" she held up an article with a picture of a building in flames. The caption read: 'University goes up in flames as psychopath student flees the scene of the crime'. Sinead winced.

"Erm… they make it sound a lot worse than it actually was,"

"_How_, exactly did you plan on explaining this to Fiske?" Amy breathed deeply; _inhale, exhale, don't-get-mad-Amy_ she chanted.

"You know what they say about crossing bridges," Sinead said.

"You are going to be hung, drawn and quartered," said Amy darkly.

"… Wait till you get to them?"

"Hung – drawn – and – _QUARTERED_, Sinead, _quartered_!"

"Yes, Amy… rainbows, flowers," Sinead grimaced. "Unicorns."

"What?" Amy stopped massaging her temples and unlocked her body from the foetal position.

"Urgh, sorry I can't; _unicorns are not real, nei__ther are fairies, mermaids or elves_," said Sinead, she took a final lungful of air; "and there is_ especially _no such thing as _Santa_!" Amy patted Sinead on the back.

"It's okay, don't worry," a bemused Amy rubbed circles onto Sinead's back.

"Why, Amy? WHY?" Sinead flung her hands towards the ceiling and looked up at the smooth surface as if looking for an answer from God himself.

"I don't actually know," Amy shook her head. "…What in hell's name you're talking about," she finished very, _very_ quietly.

"Who would invent a pervert allowed into the bedrooms of sleeping children?"

"Santa's not perverted," exclaimed Amy.

"Santa doesn't exist," Sinead argued and thus the conversation ended leaving Amy wondering how they had reached the point of discussing a non-existent, perverted Santa Clause.

"How did you even get in here?" Amy asked as Sinead got the blow-up bed from the wardrobe and began to pump.

"Through the window,"

Amy frowned; "I thought I locked the window."

"Yes, you did," agreed Sinead who would not elaborate the point any further.

"Oh, right," Amy snuggled into the sleeping bag that Sinead had procured; Sinead had claimed the queen-sized bed. "Remind me why I'm on the blow-up bed, whilst you're in mine?"

"I would, Amy," Sinead said seriously as she snapped off the lights. "But I have no explanation, so I guess I'm just cool like that?"

"Be careful," said Amy. "Your ego might not be able to fit through the door tomorrow."

"Bridges, bridges," sang Sinead. "Goodnight, Amy."

"G'night," murmured Amy, a few moments late. Amy blinked, not feeling the least bit tired. She frowned and turned on her torch, Sinead's deep breathing filling the room, she grabbed her assigned English book; '_The Catcher in the Rye'_, by J. D. Salinger. Staring at the page, Amy read the same words over and over again. Usually, Amy was sucked straight into Holden's world, but her mind kept drifting back to Ian. _Who had been calling him_? Amy just _had_ to know.

As she padded towards the left wing in her slippers, Amy winced at what she'd been driven to doing. In the dim-light of the moon, leaking from under the blinds, Amy cut a strange figure, alternating between hiding behind shelves and tiptoeing across the cream carpets.

Cautiously, Amy turned the handle on Ian's door. The well-oiled joints gave barely a whisper as Amy peered into the room. By the light of the streetlamp just outside of the window, Amy was able to make out an Ian shaped lump on the bed. Beside the divan was a chest of draws in which Amy knew Ian kept his mobile.

Amy took a deep breath and, sealing her fate, stepped into the chamber. She crept past the armchair, focusing all her efforts into making absolutely no noise. She stood over Ian's bed, as he slept he looked almost peaceful with no worry lines or smirks. Some of his hair had fallen onto his forehead; slowly, Amy pushed it away from his closed eyes. His lips were parted and Amy felt her heart breaking at the sight. He looked so innocent; and yet she could not trust him.

Pulling the top draw open, Amy pulled the smartphone from its depths and tapped in the password: Natalie's birthday. To access the recent contacts, Amy typed in numbers of the letters of her name. It was cheesy and cliché, but it made her feel slightly better. Amy ran through the dates until she came to the date.

Thirteen text messages and four calls from a withheld number, Amy stabbed at the call button. Immediately another lock came up this one Amy had never seen before. Desperately, Amy tried her name, her birthday, Natalie's name and birthday, even Ian's. The phone remained locked and Amy stifled the sobs that were heaving through her body. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed with a hot chocolate and bawl into her pillow for hours. But right now Amy had a mission. Sure, a rather petty mission, but revenge thy name is Amy. Or at least, it would be as soon as she had the password figured out.

To vent her frustration, Amy stabbed a couple of random combinations, none of which worked. Then Amy let her practical side take over, shoving away her emotions, which became harder and harder as they threatened to overflow; Amy thought for a moment before trying Ian's old locker code and then the apartment number.

Hit suddenly by the bolt of bright ideas, Amy rummaged through the draw until she found Ian's diary. She flicked through it, gratified to see that her name came up came up at least twice every page. That was, until she reached about a month before hand. Amy scanned the pages ferociously, why would Ian have stopped writing her name? Flood time, blubbing in possibly the least attractive way possible, Amy wiped her nose with her sleeve. Trying to find some silver lining in her thunder clouds, Amy comforted herself with the fact that Ian had been writing a lot less in his diary than usual and there was no mention of another girl.

Amy sat back and looked at Ian Kabra. Ian looked back. Both of them blinked.

"Amy?" voice rough with sleep, Ian yawned and then sat up, staring at Amy. "What in God's name – Is that my phone? And my _journal_!" Ian snatched them from Amy's weak grip. Amy couldn't say anything; she just stared up at her boyfriend who she really hoped was not cheating on her. _Please, please, please, _she chanted; _please don't let him be cheating_. "Amy – are you crying?"

Amy held out her arms and after a moment, Ian slid out of his bed and picked her up. Snuggling closer to his chest, Amy breathed in the scent of spices and apples. Ian sat back down on the bed; he rubbed Amy's back softly until she hiccupped.

"Sorry," she murmured, words cracking.

"Shush, love," rocking back and forth, Ian said. "It's okay, Amy."

"I love you," said Amy. There was silence and Ian froze. "I _love_ you," Amy wailed.

"I uh, love you too," said Ian uncertainly. "But were you spying on me?"

"No," said Amy, without looking him in the eye. "I came to tell you that I love you."

"Ah," said Ian, "yes. And you felt the need to read my journal and check my contacts to do so _because_…?"

"WHO ARE YOU GOING TO SEE?" bellowed Amy abruptly.

"… Uh, pardon?"

Amy shivered, grasping Ian's hair and resting her forehead against his. Their lips were centimetres apart and Amy longed to feel them pressed to hers, promising her that everything was perfect. "Who are you going to see?"

"No one," Ian whispered. "It's nothing." But Amy didn't believe him, so she kissed him. Fear and anger exploded inside her as Ian kissed her back, she broke away. "Unexpected," summarised Ian; "and reasonably pleasant, although confusing. Are you jealous?"

"What do you mean 'jealous'? Why would I be jealous?" Amy snorted and kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. In the end, they fell asleep, draped in each other's arms. And that was how Dan found them.

.

"Ian, psst – _Amy_!" came the shocked yelp.

"Dan!" Amy sat up straight.

"Huh?" Ian blinked and turned on the light.

"What the fudge, Ian?" asked Dan angrily. Amy frowned, maybe it was just her eyes, but Dan seemed to be wearing a mask and ninja suit. "You were meant to be coming on that mission with me."

"What mission?"

Ian glared at Dan; "Well done, Daniel."

"D – A – N: _Dan_!"

"What is going on here?" asked Amy wearily. "Why would you two be going on a mission without me being informed? I'm Madrigal leader."

"It isn't really a _mission_, as such," said Dan. He was looking everywhere except for Amy and Ian. "More of an assignment."

"Oh yeah? What kind of assignment?" Amy looked from her brother to her boyfriend, both of whom suddenly seemed too interested in the floor.

"Okay dokay, boys," Sinead walked into the room, wearing black leggings and a band in her hair. "Amy?"

"Sinead?" Amy held her head in her hands. "Don't tell me you're in on this assignment too."

"I'm not in on this assignment too," said Sinead and ducked as Amy threw a coaster at her head.

"What is this assignment anyway?"

"It's…" began Ian, but Dan cut him off.

"No way, Cobra," he said. "You swore secrecy on this, no backing out now."

Ian sighed and locked his most withering glare onto Dan; "Daniel, she _already_ knows."

"Uh-uh," Dan shook his head. "Sinead, Ian, with me; Amy, go back to bed."

"Not in a million years, dweeb," snorted Amy; he was so naïve. "I'm coming too."

"No you're not," Dan said immediately.

"Yes I am."

"No…"

"Dan," Ian said, holding up his digital clock. "We have half an hour, just let her come." Dan deflated and Amy smirked. "She can do guard duty with me," continued Ian, "she won't even have to know what's happening."

"What is it with the 'she's'?" asked Sinead. "Are we talking about Amy, or the cat's mother?"

"Why would we be talking about Saladin's mom?" Dan asked, Sinead face palmed and Amy gave her a comforting pat on the back.

"See what I have to go through?"

"You have my respect, Ames," Sinead agreed. "How can a sixteen-year-old be so clever, yet so stupid at the same time?"

Dan frowned; "Hey!"

Ian's phone buzzed with his voice: "This is important, pick up now Ian, this is…" Ian took the call, pulling a black top on and tying a bandit mask at the back of his neck. Sinead passed one to Amy, who felt out of place in her purple pyjamas. She put on the visor and grinned; she had missed this.

"The van's here," announced Ian, pocketing his mobile and nodding towards the window. "We should make our way down."

"Cool," said Dan and opened the window. Sinead tugged a wire and pulley from Ian's cupboard and they proceeded to set it up. "Me first," Dan said, strapping the harness around his torso.

"Why are we using the window again?" asked Amy.

"Because you were meant to be asleep," explained Dan. "We had factored that into the assignment too, this was our getaway."

"But I'm here now," said Amy. "Why not just use the door?" Dan looked as though she had grown two heads and started tap-dancing.

"We're abseiling down our apartment, Amy. Abseiling – down – our – apartment. It's so awesome that I haven't even got a word to describe it!"

"How about: exhilarating?" offered Sinead.

"Or electrifying," said Ian.

"Elating," frowned Sinead.

"Enlivening," snapped Ian.

"This – is – so – cool," breathed Dan as he stood by the window. He jumped from the sill, causing Sinead and Ian to pause in there 'my word is better than yours' competition to haul the wire up. Amy rushed to the window, peering down into the gloom. Dan's face grinned up at her, before plunging into the gray shadows; "_NINJA_!"

Next, Amy ordered to be lowered down; followed by Ian, then Sinead who controlled her own descent using a clamp and her genius mind. It was seriously scary, but Sinead's mind defied logic and Amy knew that the Ekaterina brain-power wouldn't let something like reason slow it down.

They piled into the back of the van, which began to move at a speed that Amy decided wasn't legal. Of course, this meant the journey wasn't going to be comfortable, but after Nellie's driving everything was smooth.

With a white-washed interior, lit up with bare bulbs, Amy could see everyone clearly for the first time. Ian handed out a couple of ear-and-mouth-pieces to every except Amy.

"We only have a spare ear-piece," he explained as she fixed it in place. "So you're going to be our ghost."

"It'll be fine; I'll be with you, right?" Ian nodded, "I doubt talking will be necessary."

"Sure," said Dan.

"Obviously," Ian said.

Sinead smirked; "Of course."

Amy felt unease creep over her, but shoved the feeling away. On the drive there, Ian and Sinead discussed plans and Dan provided dramatic music. Amy almost recognized the sound, but it was so mangled that it could have been the German national anthem.

"Aren't I even allowed to hear the tactics?" asked Amy forlornly. She was met with a synchronized:

"No."

"Oh,"

Sinead hurried to add; "no offense, but it would probably be better if you don't know what's happening."

"Right," Amy was worried now, but had no time to voice her uncertainties as Ian checked his watch.

"And – we – have – arrived," the rumbling sound of the engine choked off as the van skidded to an abrupt halt. Amy found herself pressed against the back panel of the van with Dan swished beside her and Sinead against her legs. "Well," said Ian from somewhere around Amy's left elbow. "This is rather uncomfortable."

The doors swung open behind them, and Amy disentangled herself from a mass of limbs. A short woman with a pixie cut and shades stood with her arms folded and a cigar between orange lips.

"You arr late," she said in a heavily accented voice. "I 'ad almost given you up fer lost."

Ian stepped forwards, arm outstretched; "Madam Chi, it's an honour…"

"Eef eet wuz an 'onour, you would 'ave shown up on time," she snapped back. Then she spotted Dan. "Ah, _Daniel_," she exclaimed with an air of delight. "I 'ave missed you," with that she hopped into the van and engulfed Dan into a bear hug.

"Yeah," said Dan awkwardly. "I've missed you too," he added without much conviction, but Madam Chi beamed all the same.

"Let's leave the reunions for now," said Sinead in a business-like voice. She had emerged from the van and was waiting by the exit. "We have a mission to…"

"I wuz told eet wuz an _assignment_," said Madam Chi worriedly.

"It is," reassured Dan. "But Sinead's right; we haven't got much time."

"Of course I'm right," muttered Sinead as she, Dan and Madam Chi rushed off into the night.

There was silence in the back of the van as Ian poured over the operations booth. Amy listened over the intercom, but all that could be heard was the panting breaths and Dan muttering about ninjas. It was a comfort thing apparently.

"So, where are we?" she asked finally. Ian didn't respond, just typed in a couple more keys. "Ian!" he looked up; "where are we?"

"Oh, Seattle museum," he said.

"Reached destination," Sinead puffed. "Are we clear?" Ian leant forwards until his nose was barely an inch from the screen.

"All clear," he said finally.

"Why are we at Seattle museum?" Amy asked jadedly. Ian repeated her question into the microphone.

"For the assignment," answered Dan, exasperation clear in his voice. Amy could just imagine him rolling his eyes.

"What sort assignment takes place in a museum?" Once again, Ian reiterated what she'd said.

"That's what I asked," Sinead said. Her voice was approving.

"And did you get an answer?" responded Amy testily, she was fed up of being kept in the dark; Ian's eyes flashed her a warning look as he spoke.

"Yes, I did actually…"

"… And she is not going to tell you," finished Dan worriedly. He muttered; "Sinead, do you want to be murdered?"

Amy's eyes popped out of her head; "_Murdered_? What are you _doing_?"

"Wow, Amy," Sinead said; "I heard that!"

"Aaaand," Ian pressed his index finger to the computer; "you're in."

"Awesome," breathed Dan. There was a swooshing sound which Amy took to be doors opening.

"You must deezconect now," Madam Chi's voice announced, faded but still snappy. "Put zeem on zee table."

There were several clicks, and some rustling as the breathing noises vanished. Amy winced as there was a sudden clattering in her ears.

"Sorry," said Dan. "I dropped it."

"Idiot," Ian said through gritted teeth, then louder; "you have half an hour. Amy with me," and ignoring the curious glance Amy sent his way, Ian got up.

They stepped from the van into the cool air. A slight breeze flipped Amy's hair over her head leaving the result an 'I just got dragged through a hedge backwards'.

"What?" Amy frowned, "why are we out here?" A leaf slapped Ian in the face; she smirked.

"Stupid nature," said Ian sinisterly; "anyway, we have some spare time and I thought you'd like to meet someone."

Amy was interested, but sceptical. The last person Ian had thought she'd 'like to meet' had been Madam Chi at a Lucian meet. The short Chinese woman had scared Amy so much that she'd employed her to tutor Dan in French, "who?"

Smirking, Ian said; "someone you've been a little jealous of recently."

"Who says I'm jealous?"

Now the eyebrows were raised, Amy had to hold back a groan; "I do," Ian said smartly. He held out his hand and Amy, after a hesitation, took it. They crossed the road, a couple of pebbles skittered past making clacking noises as they hit metal drains.

"Now to meet the person who made this whole trip possible," Ian grinned.

"You're enjoying this too much," said Amy suspiciously. "Is it that good?"

"Better, dear," Ian said, knocking three times at the red door. It was opened by a guy with an afro and a slice of pepperoni pizza; "so much better." Amy groaned.

.

Amy tugged at her hand half-heartedly; "I can't believe it was your cousin."

"Second cousin," corrected Ian immediately; "there's a difference."

"Only a tiny one," said Amy. "And really, if we went into our family trees we might find out just how far back we're related."

Ian grimaced; "awkward."

"Exactly,"

Trees, sketched in misty-gray light, quivered in the soft wind that brushed their faces, tinging Amy's cheeks pink.

"You should have just told me Alfonse was your cousin," accused Amy. "I thought you were cheating on me!" Ian snorted, and when he noticed Amy was serious.

"Amy, I'd never cheat on you!" he sounded so shocked that Amy had to laugh.

"I know that now, I'm too good for you!" She smiled wickedly before pouting; "I hacked your phone and read your diary…"

"Journal,"

"It's the same difference. You drove me to _extreme_ measures, Ian. _Extreme measures_! – I invaded your bedroom, told you I loved you and shouted in your face."

"And fell asleep in my bed,"

"I _shouted_ in your _face_,"

"And, you fell asleep - _in my bed_,"

"I was exhausted from being… oh, fine; _jealous_," Amy glared at Ian as they stepped back into the road, automatically checking left and right. Well, Amy checked; Ian didn't care – cars always stopped for Ian Kabra.

"I told you I loved you," said Amy softly. Ian paused, and slowly turned towards her. Behind him was a streetlight, it silhouetted his frame and brought out the handsome features of his high cheekbones and jawline. There was silence, even the ghostly rustling of leaves faded out. The surf roared in Amy's ears as she searched Ian's amber eyes, almost yellowed by the silvery sheens. They were cat-like eyes; kind of a cruel irony considering how much Ian loathed the creatures themselves.

"You did," Ian said deliberately. "And I told you that I loved you too."

He bent down at the same moment Amy reached up on tiptoes, their lips met and it was like their very first kiss in Korea again. Uncertain, but beautiful. They stayed like that for a long time, kissing in the middle of the road; until Ian broke away reluctantly. "The half an hour is almost up, we should get back into the van so we can make a quick getaway."

Amy sighed, before walking towards the door, Ian held it open for her and they reattached their earpieces.

"Cool, I'm done," said Dan immediately down the line. "My history homework is complete!"

"_What_?" Amy squawked. "History homework…? Oh my God, _assignment_… We just broke into the Seattle Museum for…? Dan I'm going to _kill_ you!"

Dan's voice sounded again, "Sinead…"

"I heard it too, Dan."

"So did I," said Ian dryly. "Amy doesn't need a microphone apparently."

"Amy!" a panicked Dan said. Amy leapt across the core of the van, grabbing Ian by the hair and twisting his microphone so that she could speak.

"Daniel Arthur Cahill," she growled down the line; it was a sign of how scared Dan was that he didn't correct her usage of his full name. "You make the most of your last minutes because I'm going to murder you."

"Amy…" Dan began in a pleading voice.

"_Murder_ – you,"

Ian grinned at Amy, teeth flashing. She shook her head; standing up. "You were in on this, I'm angry with you too,"

"But Amy," said Ian, shocked. "You love me, remember?"


End file.
